NYPD
by The HongKonger
Summary: The prequel to 'Undercover'. Detective Rachel Berry was what people called: a criminalist prodigy. A Detective that nobody took seriously...well until Detective Noah Puckerman arrived from Lima Ohio. AU  COMPLETE!
1. Cop meets Cop

AU: The events before and leading up to 'Undercover'.

Rachel's POV

I was young. I got that and it was something to be both proud of and to be annoyed by. People looked at me like I was a legend while other people looked at me and thought I was a kid. I was 20 for god's sake. Even if I graduated young doesn't mean I am in capable of doing my job. My job which I managed perfectly fine, even with people patronizing me at all hours of the day. I would always get those weird looks from people when we interviewed them during a case. One older woman even asked if I was a joke or a member of the media. It was after I presented my badge and pretty much rubbed the shield her face did she finally accept that I, Rachel Berry was of the New York Police Department. The Chief of police believed in me, why couldn't anyone else? Even my own team mocked me but at least they recognized that I had the brains to catch bad guys. People double my age, size and strength were compared to me, a small woman who left school early to join the Police Academy. I was one of the only women in the department which wasn't very many. Three in fact. Selene Mason who is a fellow Detective that has been in the force for five years and Eleanor Waters, an assistant coroner that works down in the morgue. When they were around me, no one would come near me as they would stare them down into submission. When they were absent however, I was easy prey.

"Hey Strawberry, what you up to sweetness?" A cocky male in her team named Louis Michaels teased.

"Go away Michaels, go annoy someone who cares," I snapped.

"Ooh, touchy are we today?" He continued. I don't know what I have done wrong in my past life to deserve this.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Dad and Daddy can do something about that," Michaels snickered. Raymond Flynn, another detective on the same team glared at him but said nothing.

"Okay, tease me all you want but I swear, mention my parents again and I will personally see you to your grave," I said livid. If it wasn't for the fire in my eyes, he would've made a snarky retort but he nodded and retreated to his desk.

"Detective Berry, making death threats are we?" The Chief said. I turned around horrified and faced him.

"It was never my intention to carry them out sir," I replied hastily.

"They better not be. As much as I despise the older males on your team, I cannot tolerate murders in my department," the Chief said.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," I mumbled and watched my boss walk away.

"Girl, you almost got yourself fired!" I decided my fists wouldn't do the job, but the pencil might so I picked up a sharpened piece of lead and hurled it in the air like a javelin, hitting my target in the arm. I was patiently waiting for him to start crying like a small child. I did receive a small applause from someone behind me. People should start wearing shoes that make loud noises.

"Good shot," he said. I turned to see a tall man with short brown hair and light brown eyes.

"And who are you?" _my fool of a coworker_ said as he recovered from his flesh wound.

"Noah Puckerman, transferred here from Lima," he said and extended his hand. Flynn shook it politely and I did after him. Michaels just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I see, well the Chief's office is that way," Michael said with a pointed finger.

"Ah yes, the glass office with 'Chief Watson Todd' on the door in big, bold black letters. Oh, and it has the man himself inside. Thanks for the help Detective Michaels," Puckerman said. Flynn and I snickered as the newcomer walked towards said office.

"I like him," Flynn said.

"He's already over taken Michaels on my 'people I can stand' list," I whisper.

"Berry, it's probably impossible not to be lower than him," Flynn replies. Michaels is still glaring after Detective Puckerman like a cat watching a goldfish and it was getting a bit unnerving. We all gathered outside the glass door and attempting to not appear like we were waiting for them. I had taken up the activity of rereading a closed case file over and over again. Eventually the pair finished their private conversation and came out.

"Flynn, Puckerman here is going to work in your unit, show him the ropes and make sure he knows how things work around here," the Chief said. Flynn put down the pencil he was twirling and nodded.

"Detective Raymond Flynn, this here is Detective Rachel Berry and to my left is everyone's best friend, Louis Michaels," Flynn said.

"Awesome. I've just moved here three days ago and my stuff is still coming into the apartment. It shows how long I've been here. Chief Todd says I can start work anytime this week. I just need to unpack some stuff and then I can come in," Puckerman said.

"I'm sure our Junior Detective, Berry here can help you with that," Flynn said while patting me on the shoulder. That's right, pin it all on me.

"Well, it sounds like a date, after the tour maybe we can make my house a little more homey," Puckerman said with a smile. I swear, if he was an anime character, he would have that little star in the corner of his eye. What was he, Mr. Perfect in all aspects? He had self control, something I seemed to lack. I suppose growing up with the teasing of having two male parents left me with anger management issues. Either way, I had to deal with the newbie, whether I liked it or not.

RBNP

I was sitting in a small café a couple of blocks away from the PD with Mason and Waters. The pair had already started mooning over the new guy who even I had to admit, was rather attractive, despite being irritating because he managed to get the last word out of everyone. This guy had been here for what, a day and he was already being stalked by all members of the department. Apparently the grape vine worked rather quickly, almost as quickly when the department found out that they were literally taking in a kid fresh out of the academy. That 'kid' being me. The major difference was this guy had magical powers that rendered everyone he met into liking him completely. It took me months for people to at least look at me without smirking.

"Hey, you can't deny he's not the hottest thing since Franklin up in Cyber Crimes," Waters said.

"Sex on a stick," Mason said. I was aghast. These women were older than me and they were talking about Puckerman like he was a paid stripper.

"Mason, don't you have a boyfriend that works in the FBI and Waters, your Married," I tell them.

"Way to go to bust our fantasy bubble Berry," Waters sighed.

"Killjoy," Mason added.

"I'm just saying, you shouldn't immediately judge a book by it's cover. What do you know about him anyway?" I ask.

"Noah Puckerman, born and raised in Lima Ohio, has one sister and lives with a single parent, his mother that works as a doctor in Lima General Hospital. He worked in Lima as a police officer for three years before getting transferred here after busting a huge drug dealing scheme. Of course the FBI got all the credit but hey, I read the files. Also, his favorite color is green and loves American Football. His ideal date is a romantic trip to an isolated place while having a lakeside picnic," Waters said.

"Wow," Mason swooned again.

"Alright, number 1, You read the case file about that drug bust so knowledge like that doesn't mean anything, number 2, I'm guessing you got his family details from his personal information that every worker submits before entering law enforcement and number 3, His ideal romantic trip sounds like the top location from the list of 'Where to kill your victim' in the latest issue of the Serial Killer Magazine," I snap.

"Did you make that last part up just then? Impressive." I turn to Waters and shake my head.

"I get it, you two are a loss cause. Before I know it, you're both going to break off your relationships, in your case Waters, divorcing your lovely husband and then I am standing on a beach, wearing a terrible bridesmaid dress and watching you two marry him," I said.

"That's a nice thought," Mason said and I physically had to whack her on the arm.

"Wow Berry, you can pack a punch. I'm joking. I barely know the guy. You always need to know your future husband before marrying him." I shake my head. I keep reminding myself that the only reason I like the pair is because they're the only decent people in the office, not including Flynn and the Chief.

"Well I've got to get back to work. Your husband-to-be has requested my assistance in unpacking his boxes. What am I, a mover?" I stand and pull out my purse.

"No, let us get this, you need to discuss with him the color scheme for our wedding. I'm joking. It seems you're going to get to him first," Mason winks. I had never been more tempted to whip out my gun and shoot her on the spot, several times, with 'reality' bullets.

"If he is so 'Hawt' as you keep putting it, he's obviously got a girlfriend at home waiting for him. Did you ever think about that?" I tell her. Her face immediately fell and for a split second, I felt rather guilty.

"Why don't you go home with him and find out?" Waters teased. I turned heel without responding and quickly power walked back to the office.

Puckerman was sitting in _my_ chair with _his _feet on _my _desk and playing with _my _computer with _his_fingers. I was about to shoot my mouth off at him for touching my stuff but he had already sprung to his feet with a child like grin.

"Ah, Detective Berry. Off to my place I think!" He said.

"Unfortunately. The car is downstairs," I said before turning around, expecting him to follow me. He catches up and turns to me.

"Of course it's downstairs. They wouldn't put the car park upstairs, that would just be ridiculous architectural planning. If you know someone who has done that, tell them that they should think of a new career." Had he really just said that? Was this guy for real. Either he had a really retarded start to life and was dropped on his head several times on purpose or he was hiding something. In the end, I just played along.

"Yes, the idea is absolute insane. Say, if crime fighting doesn't work out for you, maybe you can look into another career, how about Architecture Police?"

"Hmm, it needs something catchier," he said. Was this guy for real?

"Well, why don't you ponder on that while we drive to your place?" I tell him. He punches in his address into the GPS and bookmarks it with a 'you never know' tag line. I just shrug and drive. His apartment was a twenty minute drive away from the station and it was in a reasonable neighborhood with a children's park within walking distance.

"Wow, and you could afford to live in a place like this?"

"Well, ever since my big bust, I was paid a lot. I sent most of it to my Mom and sister but saved enough to get a decent place. It was better than living with your single parent," he said. I just nodded and parked outside his apartment block.

His apartment had a lounge room, a bathroom, a kitchen and two bed rooms. All in all, something I could never afford. He caught me staring at all the boxes and flexed a bit.

"I suggest you stretch a bit. I haven't even unwrapped my couch yet," he said.

"My muscles are fine thank you very much," I roll my eyes and head towards the closest box. It contained several books. A book case that was left behind from the previous tenant became the home of several of Puckerman's hardback novels that ranged from Dan Brown to Harry Potter. By the time I had put the latest novel of the Eragon Trilogy on the bottom shelf, Puckerman had managed to unwrap the couch (with scissors), unpacked the television (males and their programs) as well as clear the center of the room of several boxes. He looked rather shocked that I had only managed to unpack three boxes which had only contained his literature.

"What? It's been a long time since I read the adventures of Frodo," I said in defense. He chuckled and for the next half an hour, we spent working on finding permanent places for all his belongings. By seven at night, the bathroom, kitchen and bedroom had been completed. The house still smelt foreign but Puckerman assured me that he was happy that he moved here. He had mostly worked in silence which even I found absurd because he didn't seem to shut up during the car ride over.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we did a rather impressive job don't you think Detective Berry," Puckerman said.

"Safe indeed Detective Puckerman. I should get going. I need to get some dinner on the way home," I said and picked up my coat that had been discarded on the floor.

"Hey!" He said, grabbing my elbow. "You helped me, let me help you. Let me cook something. I'm no Jamie Oliver but I can whip something up that could at least exceed your choice tonight's meal."

"And what would that be, my evening meal I mean," I ask.

"Chinese take away and even though I admit enjoying a wok of noodles, it isn't something you should be having every day, now, you read Lord of the Rings while I make your welcome gift," he said and dashed into the kitchen. I follow him.

"You don't know me, I don't know you. You don't have to do this and I am more than happy to go eat my wok of noodles."

"I know you. You're Rachel Berry, Detective Rachel Berry who is still young enough to be in collage. You, however exceeded all your class mates well before you were expected and entered the academy the moment you became an adult. Even there you bested people who were three years your senior which makes you a prodigy criminalist. Yet you did not foresee that despite your achievements, people would not take you seriously due to your age which in their minds, mean that you are incapable of doing your job because of lack or experience, as well as the sexist aspect that you are indeed, a woman," he said while he got out a frying pan.

"Fine, you know about me but that's only one side of the equation Puckerman, I don't know anything about you. Besides your favorite novels."

"Last time I checked, I had several books up there on the shelf, which one is my favorite?"

"Sherlock Holmes. There has to be a dog ear on almost every page."

"You are observant. I'm am impressed," he said as he added oil to the pan.

"Of course I'm observant. If I wasn't, do you think I would be here talking to you right now?" I ask.

"Hmm…probably not."

"Let me get this straight, you, Puckerman are the new kid on the block and you have already exceeded my status, despite the fact that I've been here longer than you. People will listen to you, people will take you seriously and you will probably always be more successful than me," I snap before turning on my heel and marching towards the door. He catches up and spins me around.

"Then let me help you prove it to them. I was from a small town that rarely even needed police work, only men to break up small fights in a bar. It was by chance that a big one presented itself and by chance that it was I that cracked it. Now I am in the big leagues. The NYPD doesn't accept fools. If I stuff up, which I assure you, even I did a couple of times back home, then it's game over and I am flown away to a crap hole at the Mexican Border." He looked so sincere that it almost made me want to hug him. Now how unprofessional would that be? I nodded.

"I still cannot accept you cooking for me. Try again next time," I tell him, giving him a ray of hope.

"I'll keep that 'next time' in mind," he smiles. I return the gesture and head towards the door. As it was about to shut, his fingers caught it. "Oh and last thing, it's Puck…Puckerman is atrocious."

* * *

**I'm back in the world of Glee AU's. The updates will be less regular as school is back in full force and I actually have to start taking it seriously. I will do it when I have the time and if you have any ideas/guesses/comments, do what you've gotta do. Will be back with Chapter 2 soon. Have I mentioned how easy Glee is to write? Especially in AU? No? Never mind then :)**

**THKer**


	2. Unwanted Case

Puck (who had requested to be addressed by this name) has finally been considered 'old news' and people eventually got back to their jobs. Michaels was still out to get me but thankfully he had divided his time to torture the female and the newbie. Flynn had immediately taken a liking to Puck but he still needed to earn his respect. We had only worked on small cases, the most exciting was a bank robbery (which isn't saying much) and it only took three working days to track down the thief and the stolen goods. To be honest, I was getting a little bit bored. I thought people died all the time in New York. Maybe I was wrong about that.

"Berry, Michaels, Puckerman, got a dead one," Flynn said as I was pondering.

"Thank god," Michaels said.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry Flynn, I mean. Where is it?" Michaels said. As Flynn filled us in, it was almost impossible to miss the anticipation of the team. Under ten minutes later we were in the car with the GPS telling us where to go. I was driving in car while Flynn and Michaels were following closely behind. We soon arrived at a torn down motel. Several police cars already had the area closed off and a forensics team was sweeping the area. At our arrival, a police officer walked to greet us.

"Rebecca Shaw, 15. Her mother, Nicola Shaw is coming to meet us as we speak," the officer told them.

"Where is she? Who was looking after her?" Puck asked.

"No one. She has no idea why her daughter was here" the officer replied. Puck and I moved towards the open door while Flynn and Michaels followed the officer who was showing them to Georgina.

The room was below standards (this is me being kind) and the first thing that you notice was the smell of death. The young girl had her body laid out on the bed, scarlet liquid soaked into the white sheets. Her ringlets was strewn across the pillows and a single bullet wound to the head stained her golden hair. It was almost impossible to break your gaze from the scene in front of me. Frightened blue orbs stared at me. This was someone's daughter, someone's friend and now she was nothing but a bloody corpse in a motel room.

"I swear, we're going to get this animal who did this," Puck said from where he stood next to me.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I warn him. The coroner chose this moment to arrive and the young girl was placed in a black body bag. I wondered if Rebecca knew she was going to ever leave this room alive. Thousands of scenarios ran through my head, each one more gruesome than the previous one.

"Puckerman, Berry. The mother is waiting back at the office. There is nothing more we can do here. All the other residents have never seen the girl before and the owner was in his office the whole time. There is security footage that we can go through but it's at an appalling angle and we probably won't get anything decent," Flynn said after the body was taken away. "Coroner says that time of death was between midnight and three pm this morning."

* * *

I was glad it was Puckerman and Flynn who decided to talk to the mother. She had tears dripping into the mug of coffee she was holding and crumpled tissues scattered around the table. Michaels was standing next to me absolutely silent. It was actually rather scary not hearing him blabber his mouth off.

"You 'kay?" I ask him.

"Fine. Just…it's a kid case and they're never easy. Hafting to deal with teary parents, things that kids her age shouldn't even be knowing about," Michaels said. He was so serious and it was freaking me out. I was almost mentally begging him to throw something at me.

"Somebody's got to do it. Don't you want to get the person who took Rebecca Shaw's life?"

"How do you know we're going to get the bastard who did this?"

"I don't. All I know is that we're going to try." Puck and Flynn had finished questioning Nicola who had no idea why her daughter was where she was. She was supposed to be going to school as her mother worked a double shift at the hospital and had not seen her the night before. Nicola would be staying with her brother and remain in town until the investigation was closed. We had the white board set up with a time line and stills of the crime scene. The forensics team had determined that there was forced entry to the motel room but no prints were found besides the victim. Our first lead however was thanks to a certain assistant coroner.

"Detectives. I think you might want to see this," Eleanor Waters said. We followed her downstairs to the morgue where she and the head coroner named James Klash worked and thrived. Klash had a file in his grasps and was shaking his head slowly.

"I'm about to give you cause of death and you ain't gonna like it," Klash said sadly.

"Continue," Flynn said.

"Overdose, methamphetamine." Klash said. There was a silent pause. We had all assumed the wound to the head had caused her to bleed out. It would've been a rather painless death. Quick and easy but no, she had overdosed on Crystal Meth.

"She was 15 years old," I said aloud.

"Times are changing Berry, kids are getting corrupted younger and younger these days," Puck said.

"We need to talk to her friends at school. If she was part of a drug circle then we can find who did this," Flynn said. Michaels was already half way up the stairs and calling up the mother to get the details before I could voice an agreement.

* * *

Flynn and Michaels were catching up on the latest drug affairs, especially Crystal Meth traders so that left Puck and myself to go deal with teenagers. Gotta love kids. We parked the SUV in the student parking lot and walked towards the front door. The principal was sitting at his desk and had three students, two girls and a boy sitting on the opposite side.

"We're detectives Puckerman and Berry. We're here to talk to you about Rebecca Shaw," Puck began.

"Beccy, her name was Beccy. She hated being called Rebecca," one of the girls lashed out.

"Our apologies. Beccy Shaw. We have some questions. You require to have an adult with you during questioning but the subject we are touching is very delicate and you can choose whether or not you want to do this here," Puck continued.

"Okay, we can go," the boy said. Before the Principal could protest, the three students were out the door and headed towards an empty science lab. We followed and sat ourselves down opposite them.

"Beccy was found dead in a motel room this morning. She had a single bullet wound to the head but we found that she had overdosed on Crystal Meth. Has she ever done drugs before?" Puck asked. I was very tempted to hit him. These kids had no idea that one of their friends had just died. Not just died but overdosed and shot.

"Beccy was what?" One asked.

"We haven't ruled out murder but was she having any problems at school, was she suicidal?" Puck continued.

"No, I mean, I think she did try them, like once but who hasn't right?" The boy said.

"I'm sorry, can we have your names please?" I asked.

"I'm Barry, this is Maddie and Kika," the boy said. I nodded and they continued.

"I mean, her Mom is like never around and stuff. She is always out doing some surgery or something so Beccy is at home alone like 24/7. Her Mom buys stuff on the weekend and that's about it," Kika tells them.

"So do you think she could be suicidal?" Puck asked.

"I just don't understand why she would try to kill herself. I mean, she was like, smart and stuff. Really good at English and Drama. She could have done anything if she wanted to but I guess she felt neglected and stuff. Kika's right. Her Mom was never there and her Dad left them when she was three or something. I don't remember. She started going quiet around two months ago. That's when she started doing weirdo stuff like talking herself and going on about special meetings she had with this dude after school," Barry said.

"Do you know this 'dude'?" Puck asked.

"Not really, but you can check her facebook," Maddie said.

"Can you show us?" Kika got out her iPhone and got onto her Facebook App.

"Yeah, the guy didn't have a profile picture but his name is Rod Nyoming. Added him a couple of weeks ago," Kika said.

"Rod Nyoming," I repeated as I pulled out my blackberry and punched his name the gadget.

During the car ride back, Puck was giving me odd looks. I waited at least ten minutes before confronting him about it.

"Okay seriously what?" I asked him.

"You have facebook?"

"It's the 21st century Puckerman. Get in the zone or whatever. Besides, I don't use it to play those weird ass games like Farmville or whatever, I use it to keep in contact with friends," I answered.

"Don't you have email or phones for that,"

"Emails take too long and they seem really impersonal. Plus, on Facebook you can add photos and make fun of people," I said. I turned to him, keeping one eye on the road. "Please, we are not having the facebook argument."

"The Facebook argument?"

"Yes, the facebook argument. The Argument which involves too people verbally sparring over whether or not facebook is good or not," I explain.

"Did you think that up just then?"

"What are you? A Neanderthal? Have you been living in a barn for the past ten years?"

"I just don't spend most of my spare time on a computer," Puck said finally.

"Of course you don't. You spend all your free time on those Xbox games," I retorted. He froze and did not reply. Bull's-eye.

"No comment,"

"Rachel Berry Likes This."

* * *

The four of them gathered around the table in the center of the room. It had stacks of files on it. Each containing something vital to the case. One stack had forensics reports, the other, statements made by friends and family members.

"So, any suspects?" Flynn asked.

"Just this Rod Nyoming guy. I've managed to get him on facebook but he hasn't added me yet. In fact, he hasn't been active in the past couple of days. It probably suggests he's done a runner," I tell him.

"Or maybe he got a life and got off Facebook," Puck said. I rolled my eyes and out of the corner of my eye I could see Michaels and Puck hi-five. I looked down, two hands, two immature faces. I could do the math. I wonder if I could slap them without Flynn noticing. Meh, probably not. Flynn is a ninja in disguise and could probably kill me with the paperclip he was tweaking between his fingers. I had my laptop open on the table and was scanning through images of one Rod Nyoming. He was an older man, so not a friend of a 15 year old I was guessing but despite this, pictures could only tell you some things. A red notification popped up in my bar and I clicked it. PM from the devil himself.

_Who are you? What do you want? I don't know who you are Rachel Berry but you better be careful. I'm not a guy you should be messing with. I don't like pranks and I don't find them funny. _

I replied

_I'm Rachel Berry, I need to talk to you about the death of Beccy Shaw. She was found murdered two days ago. It seems you were the only one we have not questioned. Where are you?_

I was surprised to see that he had replied after that.

_I have no idea who Beccy Shaw is. I am currently living at Minneapolis but I did visit my father who lives at…_

I stopped reading at got Flynn and the others attention. We all copied the address down and Flynn and Michaels were already driving off to Atlantic City. Another message popped up a couple of minutes later.

_He's not in trouble right? I mean, he wouldn't hurt this Beccy Shaw girl. He's 60 years old. There is no way he could do anything. Be careful, he can get very distressed very easily. That's why I came down. To make sure he was alright. He's never been too good after Mom died. _

I typed the final message to Rod Nyoming.

_I'll keep that in mind. Hopefully your father will lead us to the person who shot Beccy Shaw. This person may not have killed her but he had every intention to take her life. You have been very helpful. Thank you. _

It was odd and if anyone ever tried to hack my Facebook account would get very confused with the PM's I was writing to people. Puck was double checking case files but we both knew that the answers weren't in them. Fingerprints belonged to house keepers and Beccy. All the house keeper's alibis checked out. Maybe this was just a crazy suicide attempt. The mother had been in denial when we questioned her about her daughters sanity. She flat out refused that her daughter would do something insane like that. She stated that Beccy knew she was the only thing she had left and would never do something so stupid. Beccy was not a selfish person and she would never try to do something reckless. I believed her and I felt Puck and Michaels did too. Flynn, being the good cop neither believed nor denied but I could tell Nicola Shaw had convinced him enough to allow her to leave peacefully. I shut my laptop down and took the first file off the top of a random stack. It was an image of the girls face. Her soulless eyes once again staring back at me. He face was nothing but innocent. I was trying to convince myself to stay open minded but this was nothing but lies that my brain wouldn't accept. There was a knock on the door and Klash was there with another folder holding test results.

"Got some good news and some bad news," he began.

"Good news, I really want something to cheer me up," Puck said.

"Alrightio. I can give you an accurate amount of meth pumped into the girl," Klash said.

"That's the good news?" Puck said astounded.

"Yes. This was a single deadly dose. She has never had the drug in her system before this. I found the entry point at the small of her back. Now unless she was some sort of contortionist, there is no way she could of injected it herself. You guys are looking at murder."

* * *

**I know this isn't very long and you expect more from me but I will try to do some in a fortnight. School has been rather busy and I tend to completely forget about these. Shout out to SK2 who helped me. James Blunt and misreading Click as Clash is one way to generate an original character name...Thanks also to NCIS agent Ziva David who gave me the idea of death by paperclip :)**


	3. Sometimes, The Truth Sucks

The news of the murdered girl was creepily comforting. It was the knowledge that the girl didn't do drugs after all and had been drugged and then killed. When Barry had told us that Beccy had done drugs, I assumed he had seen her do it but apparently it was just unconfirmed gossip. When Flynn and Michaels returned from an unsuccessful meeting with Rod Nyoming, they were filled in and the frustration rose as our number one suspect was missing. Puck was sitting at his desk twiddling his pencil between his fingers. It was a habit I picked up on because whenever a case had turned sour, he would weave the stationary with his hands. That, and the combined tapping of his foot, made me feel slightly uneasy and I tried to lose myself in the chatter of NYPD.

"So guys, what do we have?"

"A missing suspect," Michaels said. God, what I would give to punch him right now.

"Um, we now know that Beccy Shaw was indeed murdered and we have no connection between her and Nyoming," I said.

"Berry, you added Nyoming on your Facebook correct?"

"Um, yeah; well, I added the son, but it was his account," I said sheepishly.

"Good, I need you to bring the son in, we need to have a look through the private messages," Flynn said. I opened my laptop and PM'd him.

_Hey, we need you to come down. Your fathers' Facebook account might hold some crucial info on the girl's death. Location is __16 Ericsson Place_

_New York, NY__. Detective Rachel Berry. _

In the half an hour that followed, the only indication that the message was received was two letters.

_KK_

"What makes you think he's going to come?" Puck said.

"He will," I told him without looking up from my computer.

"I can see it now: Death of Teenage Girl Solved Using Facebook," Puck said mockingly.

"Fine, when we do, I'll tell the media to call it that," I snapped back.

"Fine," he said and resumed his foot tapping. Michaels was sitting on his desk playing with a 20 Questions machine and snickering to himself.

"What are you trying to get?" I asked him.

"Murderer," he said.

"Try getting potato," I told him and he nodded as he accepted the challenge. Flynn was off in a meeting with the Chief and I was guessing he was getting his left ear chewed off. When Flynn came out, he looked like a ghost and everyone made the smart choice not to talk to him. He just sat himself at his desk and started flicking through his mail. Michaels opened his mouth to say something but Flynn told him to can it without looking up. After half an hour of silence, Flynn turned to us and began to recount what his 'meeting' was about.

"Chief wants us to stake out at Nyoming's house until we get him. Berry, Puckerman, you get first shift. Each shift lasts eight hours and until we get him, that's all the crime solving we're going to be doing," Flynn informed them.

"You. Better. Be. Joking."

I looked at Puck, who didn't look the slightest bit impressed.

"Is this the joking face? Get yourself and Berry to his residence and I recommend you bring food. Just don't spill anything in the car," Flynn said and dismissed them. After I had given Flynn and Michael's information that the son was 'supposedly' coming down to chat, Puck and I were casually driving to the Nyoming Residence to begin our eight hour torture. I had a sandwich and veggie roll sitting in the back seats with a bag of crisps as a backup. Puck had practically stuffed himself before we left and it was actually quite revolting to watch. Nyoming's house was on the outskirts of a small town and it was at least a good thirty minute drive from other civilization. It was one story high with chipped walls and a roof long overdue for repair. There was a truck parked on one side of the house and a metal fence running around the property.

"Well, this doesn't scream 'psycho' at all," Puck said sarcastically.

"Hey, maybe he's a really nice guy and he just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time," I told him.

"On Facebook?" Puck questioned.

"Will you get over the Facebook thing. It's getting really old now," I snap and walk towards the door. I knock gently and, as expected, no response came.

"So, what do we do while we wait?" Puck said as we shut the doors to the car.

"I brought a book. It's pretty obvious if someone comes back, you can see for miles if any car comes this way," I said, pointing ahead of us.

"I hate this."

**

* * *

**

"I'm looking for a Detective Rachel Berry," David Nyoming said to the security guard in the lobby of the NYPD building.

"She's not here. I can bring you to the Chief," the guard replied. David approached an office and gently knocked on the door.

"Yes? Can I help you?" the Chief asked.

"David Nyoming, I need to talk to Detective Rachel Berry; something about getting into my fathers' Facebook account," David told him.

"Ah yes, her team is here to assist you," the Chief said. He escorted him to Flynn and Michaels, who were staring at a white board. David's own face was hanging on the board by magnets; a blown up picture of his driving license.

"Ah, Mr Nyoming. Unfortunately Detective Berry is not present, but we understand you have to access a password protected system," Flynn said.

"Facebook, yeah. Do you have a computer?" Flynn and Michaels walked towards the laptop lying on the desk. David logged in and went through his Private Messages. Almost all of them were with Beccy.

"Oh god," he said as he quickly scrolled through the conversations that dated back for months.

**_Hey, wanna meet up this weekend. Mother's out of the house. _**

_Sure_, same place? I'll bring the stuff.

**Awesome, see you then Rod. **

_Hey, got a new supplier, he wants to meet you_

**_Really, cool _****_J_****_ How much is he selling?_**

_Even better than the last guy. So see you around eight? _

**_KK, see you there. _**

"Is this what I think it looks like?" Michaels asked after looking through the messages and comments.

"Dealing," Flynn replied.

**

* * *

**

"Did you hear that?" Rachel said as she looked up from her book.

"Yeah, so maybe this guy really is inside," he said as he took a slurp of his melted slushee.

"Want to go check?" Rachel asked as she bookmarked her page.

"Why not, maybe it's just a cat or something," Puck said. Rachel stepped out of the car while Puck put his drink in the cup holder. They slammed their doors in sync and walked up the path. Rachel knocked again.

"Mr. Nyoming? NYPD, we need to talk to you," Rachel said.

"That's definitely shuffling," Puck murmured.

"Mr. Nyoming, can you please come to the door?" Rachel called out. Puck fiddled with the door handle and the door swung open. "Puck, we don't have a warrant."

"Just stay behind me alright," he said as he raised his gun. The pair edged into the house and split up.

"Clear," Puck yelled as he checked the kitchen.

"Clear," Rachel yelled back as she exited the study. Her phone went off and, gingerly holstering her gun, she pulled the cell phone out.

"Berry," she said.

"Hey, we've just got a confirmation on Rod Nyoming. He's been in a federal prison during his twenties for drug possession and intention to sell. The thing is, he wasn't Rod Nyoming back then, he was Rod Johnson. He changed his name when he gave up the name of his supplier and the court let him go on parole. He's been so-called 'clean' for the past 25 years. His conversations with Beccy involve meetings, as well as keywords such as 'selling and supplier'. This guy is dangerous, Rachel, be careful," Flynn said.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rachel said as she opened the basement door.

**

* * *

**

"Hey Rach, you won't believe what's in here," Puck said as he looked at the dining room slash 'secret stash'. Drugs, lots of them, were scattered along the wood and Puck could already tell what it was. He pulled out his phone and dialed HQ. "Hey, yeah boss. We've got a shit load of diamorphine, and when I say that, I mean enough to say it wasn't all for himself," Puck said.

"Okay, I'm calling a team in. Hang in there and if Johnson does return, arrest him," Flynn replied.

"Johnson?"

"Yes, didn't Berry tell you?"

"No, she still checking downstairs, I think…Hey Berry, why didn't you tell me Nyoming wasn't his real name?" Puck yelled. His heart missed a beat when he didn't get a response.

"Is something wrong?" He distantly heard Flynn's voice on the other end.

"Berry? B, where are you?" He began running. He dropped the phone as he used two hands to steady his gun. His partners' body was lying in the basement doorway with Rod Johnson standing over her with a stun gun.

"Hello there," he said.

**

* * *

**

Flynn heard a gunshot, a grunt of pain, and most likely the sound of a body hitting the floor.

"Michaels, I need police in Rod Johnson's area proto. We possibly have two men down and a drug dealer who is armed and dangerous," Flynn began barking out orders. Michaels grin was long gone and he was on his feet and calling up the local police department. With several other detectives tailing them, Michaels and Flynn were driving through the traffic with their sirens blaring as they raced towards the Johnson's home. David Nyoming was still at the station, monitored by security guards and being questioned, while the two men drove to their team members. By the time they got there, the SUV was missing, the house was empty of drugs and Detectives Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry were gone.

"Maybe we got the wrong address," Michaels said. Flynn had never wanted to shoot him more in his life.

* * *

**I'm sorry I've taken so long to update. School has been hectic and I am going on my Activity Week trip next week. I decided to update today because tomorrow is my birthday and this is my present to you! Thanks Peter Pan for Beta'ering, you're email checking is ninja like! Thanks to all my readers/reviewers. I do try to reply to all of them but there seems to be hoards of them coming through every time I update ^.^ **

**THKer.**


	4. Waiting

**I am so sorry for not updating sooner. I have had a rather hectic month and I had a rather severe writers block. That and I have taken up Vlogging. So if you want to see what the hell I am like, my youtube channel name is on my profile...or its just thehongkongertv. **

**Enough with my advertising, moving on! Thanks to Peter for Beta'ing. **

* * *

Puck had been in several hostage situations but this had definitely been a first when it came to him being the hostage. The first problem was not knowing where the hell he was, which meant that trying to escape and succeeding was not looking like the best way out. The second problem was Rachel Berry. He had seen her body; well, it had been the last thing he saw before someone switched his lights off. The third and final problem was that he had a massive head ache and his eye sight was pretty blurry. He groaned as he sat up and felt the blood rushing to his legs.

"Berry? Berry, are you there?" he called into the darkness.

"Oh thank god, it's you. I thought I was screwed for sure," he heard her voice from the other side of the room.

"Can you move?" he asked.

"My head hurts like a bitch and I'm pretty sure I whacked one of my arms on the way down when I fell, but otherwise, couldn't be better," she said.

"This is just brilliant. Absolutely brilliant," Puck said to himself.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Number one rule, never leave your partners side and I did just that and now we're in this situation."

"Hey, this ain't your fault. I should've been looking out for you as well. I completely underestimated this guy and hopefully Flynn and the boys back at the Department will find us. I'm pretty sure they heard the gun shot," Puck said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I was on the phone to the station when I went looking for you. I'm pretty sure it was still on when I dropped it. Hopefully they tracked down the location before the psycho stomped the living day lights out of my phone, which I will most definitely need to replace," Puck said.

"Great, we're stuck god knows where and you're worried about your phone?" Rachel groaned.

"I'm kidding, I'm just glad we're still alive."

"I'm not. It means that he wants something with us. If he just wanted to get rid of the evidence, then why did he not just kill us?"

"Wow, way to kill the optimism. But I suppose you're right. Let's just hold in here until we find out what the hell is going on," Puck agreed.

"That sounds like the best plan," Rachel said quietly.

"It sounds like the only plan."

* * *

Flynn was pacing in front of the huge white board with the time line streamed across it. It had both the photographs of his two team members and one of Rod Johnson. His son was in the interrogation room but it was obvious that he had no idea what his father was doing. It became apparent that he was actually estranged from him for several years and had only recently begun contact with him again. Half an hour later and there was still nothing. David Nyoming had opted to stay and was trying to figure out what his father had been doing. Despite not knowing the man very well, he was the closet connection the police had.

"Sorry I couldn't be of much help," he said.

"It's fine. You're more help than anyone else here. We've got two of our men missing and as more time goes by, the less chance we have of finding them."

"I really wish I could do something," David said.

"Do you know of any other contacts that your father might have made?"

"Well, there was this one guy. Peterson, if I recall. Some old high school buddy of his," David answered.

"Michaels! Cross reference Peterson with any emails, phone calls, hell, even Facebook chats with Johnson," Flynn said. Michaels, who had been staring blankly at the white board, shot into action and already had his fingers zipping over the keyboard. Flynn almost cracked a smile at his subordinate.

"If Berry and Puckerman could see him now, working this hard to find them," Flynn said. "If anyone can find this connection, Michaels is your man."

"I'm sitting right here boss, I can here you," Michaels said.

"If you're looking for a spy, he's up for grabs as well," Flynn said, patting him on the shoulder before moving towards the Chief's office to give him an information-less update.

* * *

"Well, the man you're looking for is none other than the infamous Jose Miguel Peterson a.k.a. your everyday petty criminal," Michaels said as he dumped the print out on the table.

"Well, it seems that this pair has a thing for getting up to no good," Flynn said as he looked over the sheet of paper.

"You've got that right. Arrested three times ever since he left high school. He was a drop out, but I think I didn't need to tell you that, and two of the arrests were theft and a DUI," Michaels continued.

"Yes, well, let's bring him in," Flynn said.

"Now there's your problem."

"What?"

"Bringing him in isn't going to be easy," Michaels said.

"I don't care. I want any means possible to get this man in my custody," Flynn said.

"Okay, let me rephrase that, impossible."

"He's dead isn't he?" David said out of the blue.

"You know?"

"I've heard he's done some pretty stupid stuff. I'm not 100% sure what he did but somebody out there was out to get him," David said. "I remember now. He used to come visit my father whenever I was there when I was younger. Let me see the sheet," David said. "Yep, that's Peterson alright. Still looks as shady as ever."

"So we've got absolutely nothing," Michaels said.

"I was talking to the chief earlier. The CSU just finished sweeping the area and found nothing. Well, besides Detective Puckerman's phone, which is in pieces by the way, so if there was any data on the phone, which I doubt there was, we have no idea where they are."

* * *

They were both crawling around the little room that was cement on all sides and smelt damp. As suspected, both of their weapons were missing, as was Rachel's phone. They found the door, which was locked from the outside, and a light switch that connected to a pathetic little bulb.

"I'm starving, are you?" Puck asked as they sat shoulder to shoulder against the wall.

"Don't even mention food," Rachel snapped.

"Sorry, just trying to find something to talk about," he shrugged. He was in no mood to deal with the frustrated woman.

"How about something else, like um, high school," Rachel suggested.

"Well, to put it out there, I was a complete geek. I was really into science but I was also pretty good at football, so I was a mixed kind of guy. Unfortunately the high school I went to always based everything on stereotypes. I was not popular, to say the least," he said.

"I was whisked away to military school before I even got a chance at high school. My fathers' weren't around much and the boarding was actually okay. I got to meet quite a lot of people but they were all a lot older than me. I remember this one girl, Nikki Caetano. She was from Australia and she was going to join the Navy. I could hardly imagine myself as military personnel. At least as a detective, you get a break sometimes but once you're at the battlefield, you have to watch your back every second of the day. I'm always scared for her and all my other classmates who went off to go join up to do service for their countries. I'm in contact with a few of them who get some leave but I've lost some friends as well," Rachel said.

"Yeah, I can't really relate because I studied in a police academy to get my training done. You went to the PA after you finished military school right?"

"Yeah, because of my past history I got bumped up in the class, so I pretty much skipped the basics because I had learnt them several years prior," she replied.

"What do you think you would've done if you hadn't gotten into military school?"

"Well, I was always interested in literature. I might have ended up being a script writer for all I know." She smirked at the idea.

"Librarian, I might have gone off to work for NASA," Puck said.

"Look at us, two kidnapped detectives, highly accomplished detectives to say the least, stuck in this hell hole with next to no hope getting out… Brilliant."

* * *

"This is out of control! The big man is going to kill you when he finds out," a frustrated voice said in the back of a bar.

"No, the big man already knows. He always knows. He's got eyes everywhere. Hell, I bet he's got a couple of spy pigeons on his side," another voice said, more nervous than frustrated.

"Will the both of you shut up? I've got this under control. I'm just working on a plan and I can't do this while the pair of you are talking," Johnson said. The duo suddenly sat up straighter and took shaky sips of their beer.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"We? You two need to get the hell out. This is my problem now. I can't have you two in my way," Johnson snarled.

"What are you going on about?"

"The NYPD are probably on my tail now. My son has probably tipped them off. He's too much like his mother, that boy. Always feeling like he's got to do the right thing. He wanted to help me but I suppose I'm just a lost cause." The two other men looked at Johnson like he was off his rocker. "I can get you on a plane in an hour. I've got to deal with this myself."

"You are insane. But I'm not going to forget this. If you get your ass out of this then you can come meet in the safe house up north."

"That's if I get myself out of here. Now go, before I call the cops on you," Johnson said in a joking attempt of humor that failed miserably.

"Just get rid of them quickly."


	5. Alone

**Chapter 4**

Rachel and Puck caught the food that was thrown through a small slit in the door. Bread and airplane butter…their favorite. They had lost count on how long they had been held hostage, or kidnapped, or whatever, and they were starting to feel the sting of captivity. They had yet to experience an encounter with their kidnapper and that worried them even more. The only thing that gave them hope was that they were being kept alive. Maybe they had gotten too close or maybe they had seen too much. Hopefully their boss would get them out of there before you could say Puckerman. The friendship between the pair had only gotten stronger and they found that each other's company was the only thing keeping them sane.

"Hey Rachel, what are you going to do once we get out of here?"

"I don't know Puck, eat and go to the bathroom. The box one in the next room is pretty…scrungy," she replied. They had recently discovered that a door attached to the room was a bathroom (or was meant to be a bathroom).

"Yeah, a nice warm bed in a house with my Ma and my sister," Puck added.

"My dad's probably don't even know I'm here. They've been working in Australia for several years, ever since I left high school and I visit them during the summer and Hanukah but it's still not exactly ideal."

"I know what you mean. I wish I could watch my baby sister grow up but this job doesn't exactly let me off all the time."

"I know Puck, I work with you remember?" He gave her a small smile before stretching. He stood and did a couple of routine stretches to try and move his straining muscles.

"You know, let's have another go at the door again," Puck said. Rachel sighed and then joined him by the large steel-looking door. They looked at the dent that they had slowly made over the lock and gave it a nudge. The lock rattled slightly but hadn't given any sign that it was going to give way.

"Ready?" She said.

"Kick," he said and they both brought up their toned legs and struck the door. They heard a slight crack but the door didn't budge.

"Again," she said. They continued to kick until they heard the snapping sound of weak rusted steal breaking away.

"Got it!" he said, heaving slightly from the exhaustion. They gingerly pulled to door open towards them and poked their heads into the corridor. It was one way and lead to a staircase that would bring them to ground level. It was as cold in the hallway as it was inside the room, almost polar, and the only sunlight came from the gaps in between the steps. "Let's go."

They walked as quietly as possible and kept listening for any sounds of life. They walked up the steps to a small wooden shack consisting of two rooms, living room and kitchen. A small radio was on the coffee table and half eaten toast had been left abandoned by the sofa.

"Where do you reckon he is?"

"God knows. Honestly, let's just get the hell out of here before hell freezes over," Puck said and headed towards the front door. They did the same routine as they did when they left the basement, poking out heads and intense gazing in all directions. They saw old tire tracks in the dirt and realized that their kidnapper had gone off.

"Shall we follow the tire tracks?" Rachel asked.

"It probably leads back to civilization," Puck told her and started to walk towards the makeshift road.

"Or, he expected us to follow the tracks and kill us in some unknown place where archaeologists are going to find us in a thousand years," Rachel said.

"Captain Optimistic aren't you?" Puck said as he trudged down the gravely road.

"Fine, let's do it your way."

"Lovely."

NYPD

"This was your idea – I hate you."

Rachel and Puck had been walking for over three hours in the same direction the tire tracks had been. They hadn't even passed a blade of grass.

"Calm down princess, it can't be much further," he said as squinted in the effort to see anything in the distance.

"See anything?"

"Does it look like it?"

"I thought you knew where you were going is all…" Rachel snapped and walked past him. Puck grimaced and followed her into the void that seemed to go on and on.

It was another two hours until they both agreed to stop. They had been eating 1/4 of what they should have eaten during their captivity and they were surely dehydrated. The sun was starting to disappear over the horizon and they had yet to make any contact with any other human life. Rachel had gotten crankier and crankier as the minutes ticked by in the hot sun and Puck had retaliated with come backs that neither of them understood. The ground was still hot when they sat down and both were sweating heavily.

"Do you think we're going to die out here?" Rachel asked.

"No idea. What a way to go…" Puck sighed.

"Thanks for the confidence boost. Really needed that," Rachel sneered sarcastically as she craned her neck to look further down the road. She looked back the other way and it looked exactly the same.

"For some dark twisted reason, I actually want to go back to the shack from hell," Puck said.

"That's us, the Dark and Twisted," Rachel agreed. For the next five minutes, they let themselves catch their breath before walking again to try and cover as much ground until sundown.

NYPD

"Nothing," Flynn said as he tried to get someone to cough up the location of his detectives' whereabouts. He and Michaels had drowned themselves in coffee and cold pizza and hadn't left the office since they returned from Rod Johnson's home. David Nyoming had also attempted to contact his own father but had been unsuccessful.

"I've tried, boss, but he's been off the grid for over twenty years. He had put a fake name on David's birth certificate and he has no marriage license that is valid, most likely some backstreet Vegas one, by the looks of things," Michaels said from his computer.

"Keep looking, they've got to be somewhere. If either one of them are hurt, Johnson is going to be getting an ass whipping," Flynn said.

"Get in line sir," Michaels replied exhaustedly before making yet another phone call to the police stations in the area. His moment's peace was broken suddenly by the hustle and bustle of two men being forced into the station.

"Found these blokes try to steal a car; they've got tickets out of country on them. Apparently Canada's a lovely place to go this time of year," Mason said as she yanked both of them into an interrogation room.

"We're just getting the hell out of here before shit hits the fan," one of them began to argue.

"Next time, try not to put 'car stealing' into your master plan. Looks like you boys are staying a couple of nights in the cell but fortunately for you, we've got the best night guards on duty so whoever is after you won't be coming near you," Mason said grumpily. She had been aiding her fellow detectives on finding her friends; it had taken a toll on the entire department.

"Chill lady, what's your problem?"

"Two of our detectives have been kidnapped. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"What makes you think we know anything?" one of them said, suddenly very interested in the one way mirror.

"Do you know anything?" Mason said, trying to keep her cool.

"How about we do something about our cell time and maybe we can make a deal," the other said.

"Names?"

"Let's keep it simple, I'm Fang, he's Claw. We lost our names a long time ago so the ones on your system will be a dud." Mason nodded but seemed slightly taken back by the men who were clearly insane in front of her.

"I get my boss," Mason said before leaving the room.

"Chief! These guys might know something 'bout Berry and Puck!"

"Do whatever. I want a location and I want it now!"

Fang and Claw had talked about Rod Johnson. The information regarding their first meeting was not part of the deal but their further encounters were.

"We've met up a couple of times, most of it to get a message to our boss or to trade some of the products. Us, we don't do that underage crap, that's the worse field in our business. You can get busted and if the cops don't get catch you if you stuff up, the big man will," Claw said.

"We've stuck to athletes who need an extra boost during training. We've always given moderate hits and none of our clients have had any severe side effects. Johnson, he was into kids. Especially teenage girls. He likes them young apparently and it creeps us out to say the least. He was still a coworker and sort of friend so we said nothing. We didn't try to find him, not until we saw that dead girl on the news. That's when we knew he was in big trouble. He has several hide outs but one that is best to accommodate prisoners, your detectives in this situation. It's on a side road out of the interstate. It could take several days to get back on the main road and hopefully, if they have escaped, they're going towards the road and not away from it," Fang said.

"Where exactly is this safe house?" Flynn asked.

"Got a GPS?"

NYPD

"Ground Rescue to Heilo Rescue. We've got the safe house coming up on the East. Turning on Infrared," the Rescue Helicopter said to the rescue vehicles on the interstate.

"Any sign of the detectives?"

"No, we'll check out the house."

"Be cautious, the suspect might be armed and dangerous."

"Got that, over."

Flynn, Michaels and Mason looked at each other as they overhead the radio blaring the conversation into their SUV. They had hoped the helicopter had found their friends but so far, the ground was barren.

"Heilo Rescue to Ground Rescue, we've got an unidentified helicopter craft outside the shack," the helicopter team said.

"We hadn't dispatched any other air craft, are you sure?"

"Does it sound like I'm joking?"

The helicopter team saw several people walk out of the shack. What alarmed them the most was that they were armed to the teeth.

"Sir, armed and dangerous, repeat, armed and dangerous. I can count about nine individuals. There are two ground vehicles behind the shack. How would you like us to proceed?"

"Stay air borne until we arrive."

The NYPD detectives sat in silence until Flynn pushed down on the accelerator and watched as all the other cars on the road made way for the SUV with blaring sirens and flashing lights. If Claw and Fang were right, these were the drug lords looking for Johnson and most likely assassinating him.

"God, I hope they got out of the house," Mason said.

"They got out of the house, detective. They're the best, better than I could ever be. I'm not letting them down after all they've done for me," Flynn said.

They could feel the difference of the asphalt road and the dust that made up the side road. The SUV bumped ahead of the rescue vehicles and could see the helicopter hovering ahead. They watched as the other helicopter took off in the other direction and saw the dust rise as the two other cars followed. When they arrived at the shack, they bolted into the house, guns raised and kicking open any door, locked or not.

"Sir, look at this," Mason said.

"What is it?"

"They got out. I think the guys figured it out as well. They broke the lock," Mason said.

"Get crime scene. I want to know how long they were here for," Flynn said before returning to the surface. Mason looked at the conditions that her friends had to survive in during their kidnapping. It was small, cold and smelt like mould. She gave the room one last glance before going back upstairs.

"Are we going to follow the other vehicles?" Michaels asked.

"What choice do we have?" Flynn asked. The chase resumed as the SUV, helicopter and two rescue vehicles created their own dust clouds.

NYPD

"We've got to stop soon. It's going to be pitch black in less than an hour, Puck," Rachel said.

"I know, let's try and get as far away as possible before the sun sets," Puck answered.

"What if we're going in the wrong way?"

"What makes you think that?"

"We could be walking away from help."

"Anywhere is safer than that shack," Puck said before stopping to allow his partner to catch up. He turned around and saw Rachel looking defeated and sickly looking.

"Rach…" he said, disappointed in himself for not noticing her absolute exhaustion earlier.

"I'm fine Puck, absolutely fine." He met her half way and hugged her.

"I promise I'll get you out of here," he said into her hair.

"No, if I can't then you leave. There's no point having us both getting stuck out here forever," Rachel said into his shoulder.

"How about when we get to that bridge, we decide who should cross it," Puck said and felt her nod. He gave her a true smile and she returned it. He put a hand at the back of her head and pushed a kiss to her forehead. He held her as the sun finally dipped behind land, he held her as she was brought to the edge with tears, and he held her as he felt the bullet rip through him.


	6. Forgotten

**Chapter 5**

"Rach…I-" he gasped. Rachel took a step back and felt Puck's weight bring her down to the ground. She looked over his shoulder and saw Rod Johnson standing with her pistol in his hand.

"It's Johnson, stay low," she whispered into his ear. He mutely nodded back and stared into her eyes, tears threatening to fall from the pain.

"Hello you two, I thought you would get yourselves out sooner or later," he said grimly.

"What do you want with us?"

"I stuffed up and now I've got to cover up all my evidence. They were going to kill me and I can't let them get to me. I've been in this business too long. This stupid girl just had to screw it all up," he said and took several steps towards them. Rachel could make out his features in the orange glow of the dusk and he looked as ragged as herself and Puck.

"They're going to find you, the NYPD I mean," Rachel said, trying to put on a brave face while trying to force Puck off of her.

"Not if I get rid of you first," he said and aimed the shotgun at her. Puck felt Rachel's heart beat increase from underneath him and tried to move to cover her completely.

"Puck, stop it," Rachel said.

"There's no point for both of us to go," he winced.

"Shut up." Puck looked down at the woman who looked more like a scared child than the invincible detective he knew.

"Damn it," Johnson said as he heard the rumble of a familiar sound.

"It's a helicopter," Rachel said softly to her fallen friend. Her hair began to blow violently as the blades of the aircraft disrupted the previously peaceful landscape, minus the gun toting nutjob. The helicopter landed and two other vehicles pulled up beside it.

"Rod Johnson," a voice said. Rachel tried to get a better look at who was talking but she could only see dark clothes and aviators.

"Please, don't take me to him. If he could just give me another chance," Johnson begged.

"You know the rules, there is no such thing as chance. You screwed up; it's you that's got to pay. You brought the NYPD into this mess and now you're going to have a private consult with the boss himself," the man continued.

"Please-" he begged again but he was shot. Johnson gasped as he pulled out the tranquilizer dart from his neck and tried to combat the drowsiness that started to bring him under. The man looked at the two detectives in quite a compromising position.

"The boss gave no order for your execution. You will be joined soon by your fellow detectives. We'd appreciate if you left this meeting to yourself." Rachel stared blankly at him and didn't say a word, even as he got into his car and drove off. She knew Flynn and Michaels were close; the sirens were already starting to give her a headache, or more of a headache that she already had.

"Rach…god it hurts," he said.

"Hold on, they're on their way," Rachel whispered.

"If I don-don't make it, make sure that my family is kept sa-safe," he murmured.

"Stop talking, you're going to be fine," Rachel said although she wasn't a hundred percent sure she believed in what she was saying.

"Promise me," he said, slowly losing conscious.

"Why should I promise you when it's not going to happen. Flynn is on his way and he's probably brought half the hospital with him!" Rachel said, trying to keep her partner awake.

"Please," he groaned from under hooded eyelids.

"Puck?" She asked.

No response.

"Puck? Wake up!"

No response

"God damn it, please Puck, this world still needs you, your family needs you, the department needs you, hell even I still need you!"

The sirens drew closer; she prayed they would make it in time. She stared into his grimy face and like it was all in slow motion, his body was lifted off of her by people she did not know. She faintly heard the soft voice of Mason, who was trying to shove a water bottle down her throat. She watched in denial as Puck was strapped into a stretcher and taken away in the rescue helicopter and refused to speak, not until she knew he was okay.

"Berry?" Michaels said as he cautiously walked towards where she sat in the back of a rescue vehicle.

"She's not really talking," Mason said.

"Fair enough. Flynn has gone with Puck to the hospital. He's going to call if any news comes up. We've called in a crime team which is coming down to do a sweep of the house. They will want a statement off you so just tell me when you're up for it," Michaels said. He quickly turned his head to make sure no one was focused on him then took two steps forward to embrace the younger detective in a hug. "You scared the shit out of us. I don't think Flynn is going to let you out of his sight for months." Rachel nimbly hugged back and when they broke apart, accepted a gulp of water.

"We're driving you to the hospital, well the rescue team is. They want to monitor you on the way there. We'll be behind, all right," Mason said. Rachel nodded once before allowing a woman around the same age as her to lead her away.

* * *

"Miss Berry is quite dehydrated and she was held captive for a week, so we've been gentle with putting fluids into her. She'll have to stay away from very solid food for a while when she is released. Try to keep her on soups or noodles for a couple of weeks to get her body back to a healthy state. Her psychological health however is a different story. I've ordered a psychologist, who is with her at the moment. She seems to be suffering from PTSD. She does not respond to any of the questions we ask or nor does she show any signs that she is aware of what is happening around her. It is debatable how much information she actually absorbs when she is told something. Is there any news on her partner?" Dr. Corday asked.

"He's still in surgery, the bullet ripped through muscle tissue but they've so far confirmed that it hasn't hit his spinal cord. Thank god, to say the least," Mason told the doctor.

"Sounds like steady progress. I need to check on another patient so if anything happens, such as Rachel responding to words or her eyes focusing on something in particular, try to get in contact with me. It would be in your best interests as PTSD patients are known to be quite violent. To them, it's like they jumped from one place to another; in her case, a crime scene to a hospital. You can go in when the psychologist is finished with her." Dr. Corday nodded before walking down the corridor and disappearing around a corner. The psychologist left the private room, notepad in hand and told them that little progress had been made. Michaels, Flynn and Mason entered the room and Rachel was leaning back against the raised bed, staring out the window.

"Hey Berry," Michaels greeted her. She made no movement to recognize his voice and Michaels looked at Mason and Flynn for support.

"How've you been? The doctors tell us that Puck's spinal cord is intact and that they're fixing his wound up as we speak. So far, it's a high percentage of success, although he's going to have to stay away from active duty for a while," Mason said. Rachel blinked once but said nothing.

"Come on Rachel, please." Flynn said almost desperately. He still had a slight chance of losing one of his team members but he was determined not to lose both of them. The hours during Puck's surgery was spent hanging around the hospital, none of them willing to leave in case something came up. Mason spent most of her time talking about everything that sprang to mind and she was later joined by Waters, who was happy to escape the morgue for a couple of hours. Michaels and Flynn would migrate between the detectives, checking on Rachel and making sure she wasn't alone and standing outside the O.R. awaiting news. Dr. Corday watched the NYPD detectives sadly and personally hoped that they would both come out of the ordeal where they could move on.

* * *

The blinding light was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. The smell was definitely a change from the dust and grime that he had been breathing in for the past couple of days. In fact, it smelt really clean, almost too clean. Then his memories bitch slapped him across the face. He wanted to spring up and make sure he was all right. A burning sensation ripped through him and he felt a numbing pain come from his back.

"Ow," he grimaced as he realized that moving wasn't such a great idea.

"Oh, Detective Puckerman. As you have probably just noticed, movement is to be kept to a minimum for the next couple of days," a doctor said, walking in.

"Hello," he greeted and realized that even speaking hurt.

"I'm Doctor Frederick. My team and I performed a surgery on your back to remove the bullet and to repair damaged tissue. It missed your spinal cord so we expect you to be able to have full use of your legs but it damaged your muscles so they're going to take time to repair." Puck nodded weakly.

"Is Rachel here?"

"Detective Berry? Yes, she's under surveillance. She's been here for almost 18 hours and so have your fellow NYPD members. I believe Detective Flynn wants to talk to you," Dr. Frederick said. He left and Puck smiled slightly as he saw his boss walk in.

"You gave us all a bit of a scare, Puckerman," he said.

"Yeah, I think I gave myself a bit of a scare."

"Don't worry, we'll cover for you until you get back. The boss has been informed that there were no casualties and he is trying to organize a team to try and find the people who took the man who did this," Flynn continued.

"No point, they've probably killed him by now," Puck said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know that?"

"They weren't there to rescue him, they were there to kill him. Well, I think they were there to kill him. They didn't sound pleased, at least. You should ask Rachel, she was actually watching."

"Okay," Flynn said a little less enthusiastically for Puck's liking.

"What?"

"Nothing, Puck, I should leave you so you can get some rest," Flynn said before patting him lightly on his undamaged shoulder.

"What is wrong with Rachel?" Puck said, meeting his eyes.

"She's not hurt, she's just a little shaken up by everything."

"Shaken up."

"Okay, she's been diagnosed with PTSD and she's not talking to anyone. Waters and Mason have been with her but she's just sitting there. Maybe once you are able to move again, you can go see her. I think she was afraid you had died on her back on that road."

"God, I need to see her now!"

"You can't. I will ask your doctor when you can be allowed to move but right now, you need to heal that shoulder of yours." Puck huffed as Flynn walked out of his room. He tried to force himself to go to sleep in the hope that when he woke up, he could go visit his partner to assure her that everything was going to be okay.

* * *

"Honey, he's fine. Flynn's talked to him and he's awake and everything," Waters said to the still stoic Rachel, who was staring blankly ahead. "Okay sweetie, you really need to start talking. I know it's hard but Puck's apparently wracking his brain with worry. He's determined to walk over here himself if you don't start doing normal stuff soon." Rachel blinked twice but said nothing.

"What do you think she saw?" Mason asked her colleague.

"No idea but it must've been terrible. Either the thought of what they were going to do to Puck's shooter or the aspect of having someone shot in front of you and then being trapped underneath them," Waters said, stroking Rachel's messy hair sympathetically.

"Can you stay with her for a minute, I'm going to get some coffee," Mason said and took Rachel's hand for a moment and gave it a soft kiss before putting it back in its place and walking out. Waters shook her head and picked up a book she had been reading. When she was turning the forth page, she heard a sound. It was a sigh. That had been the first noise Rachel had made since she arrived in the hospital.

"Rach, honey?" Rachel turned her head to look directly at the assistant coroner. Waters beamed at her and was ready to jump up and hug her. She had heard her and had actually responded.

"Hey Eleanor, what's going on?"

"Do you remember anything?" Waters gasped. She was talking and Eleanor was ready to start dancing on the spot.

"I was out in the middle of nowhere and a gun went off. There was a helicopter and then Selene was there and then I'm here talking to you," Rachel replied.

"That's good. You just sit here alright, I'm going to get Dr. Corday, she's the one keeping an eye on you. She wanted me to go get her whenever you said something." Waters practically skipped out of the room. When she returned with a flustered Dr. Corday, Rachel had to be given a quick psych evaluation by a psychologist that Corday had asked to come in.

"How are you feeling?"

"A bit sore, hurts here and there but nothing major. Got a bit of a headache but I think you'd expect that after being in the middle of god knows where without enough water," Rachel replied simply.

"Good, now what's the last thing you remembered before you woke up?"

"Mason was trying to get me to drink water and then I walked away with some rescuers. I was in their van and then nothing. I was here talking to Eleanor."

"I see. Do you feel nauseous?"

"Not really," Rachel said truthfully.

"Yes, I think it was some minor PTSD but that can be expected after what you've been through," the psychologist said.

"PTSD?"

"Yeah, you've been out of it for a while, completely zombie like," Waters told her.

"Creepy. Well I'm better now. When can I leave?"

"We'd like to keep you under surveillance for another 24 hours and then we'll see, all right?" Corday said, smiling, and then left to go give Flynn and Michaels the good news. She found them in the waiting area, dozing slightly or in Michaels case, snoring loudly. "Excuse me gentlemen, Miss Berry is awake and talking. She's currently with your female co-workers and seems to be making great progress." Flynn stumbled to his feet and grinned. His team was going to be fine. He knew it was going to take a while but things would be back to normal. He allowed Michaels to go ahead but he felt that he had to pay a visit to Puck first.

"Hey Puck, Rachel's awake and she seems to be fine. She just had some PTSD and from the sound of her progress, she'll be getting out soon," Flynn said as he walked into Puck's room. Puck smiled gently and nodded.

"That's good. Can't have her staring out windows and thinking of rainbows and bunnies for the rest of her life," he said as he poorly attempted a joke.

"That would be a tragedy, wouldn't it?"

"I really want to see her. Can you ask Dr. Frederick to have me moved or something? I just want to tell her myself that I'm going to be fine. She was freaking out on the road and I just wanted to apologize for scaring her," Puck said.

"I'll ask." Flynn made the arrangements with Dr. Corday and Dr. Frederick, who at first told him that it was breaking hospital rules, but felt compassionate enough to let this one slide. Puck was wheeled into Rachel's room where he saw her talking animatedly with Waters and Mason about some chick flick movie that he recalls had been advertised half way through the Super Bowl. She looked at him, a smile still on her face and nodded.

"Hey Rach, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you for asking. And you are?"

* * *

**And we have reached the end to yet another depressing Chapter. Thanks to Peter once again. We've all had internet problems so that was the cause of delay (her end as well as mine). I'm off to Australia so if you live in Brisbane, you might see me, just shout out Hong Konger and if I turn around, you've found me. Hi-Five is for anyone that does find me. **

**I've been a little slack, I've got an English speech to do tomorrow and I've been addicted to neopets (I won't tell you my age merely because it's quite embarrassing). If you do play, its Sierra_Song (My DW Gamma Forest Name) If you try to change those words into names, you've got my real name but I'm not sure who is sad enough to try. **

**Thanks again to all reviewers, alerters etc. (You've heard it all before). And to my fellow fanficers, is anyone else getting a bit annoyed with the Doc Manager? I am :( **


	7. Awakening

**Chapter 7**

_Remembering Noah Puckerman _

**Rachel**

She had no idea what she did wrong, this Puckerman person knew who she was and when she replied that she did not know him, he bolted out of the room with cords trailing behind him and still dressed in a gown. She looked around to see her coworkers look at her in shock like she had committed a murder and she had just confessed.

"What?" Rachel said finally.

"Tell me you were joking with the 'who the hell are you, Puck?' thing," Michaels said.

"Not exactly in those words but there is no joke. I have no idea who he is," Rachel said truthfully.

"Shit," Flynn said.

"Boss?" Rachel asked, alarmed.

"Sorry, just get some rest. We'll have a small chat with the doctor," Flynn replied. He stood and grabbed Michaels by the arm and practically dragged him out of the ward.

"Was it something I said?" Mason and Waters looked at her sadly.

"That was your partner. He's been freaking out about you ever since we got here. You watched him get shot and was bleeding out on top of you. We can understand the shock of seeing him alive," Waters said.

"You're lying. I was alone in the desert. I was knocked over by the momentum of the suspect shooting at me and lucky for me, the gang lords of whatever got him before he got me," Rachel said. Waters and Mason exchanged stunned looks and then tried to look at Rachel, searching for a hint of amusement like what she was telling them was just to wind them up.

"Please Rach, don't do this to us," Waters whispered under her breath.

**Puck**

Doctors and patients alike had given him weird looks as he walked past. If he wasn't on the intensive care floor, people might have thought he was an escaping psycho. He had no idea why he was storming off like a child who didn't get his favorite toy. The fact that Rachel had no idea who he was just made anger boil up within him. He wanted to murder the people who traumatized her. He wanted to fix her; he wanted her to remember him. Rachel was his partner and, as the story goes, nobody gets left behind. Without her, he felt broken. As sappy as it sounded, he felt incomplete. He always relied on her to watch his back and he would watch hers. Now he felt alone. He walked out the building and sat on a bench. Time flew by and he mindlessly watched patients and visitors walk in and out the automatic doors. It felt likes centuries later when Michael and Flynn patted his shoulder gently and sat next to him.

"She's going to be fine, Puck. The doctors say it's only temporary and although they can't give an exact day of her recovery, they say that she'll remember everything once she's better. Her body is heeling and her mind will be back to normal any time now." Puck looked at Flynn and saw a determined glare.

"How can you guys be so sure?"

"We have to be right? I mean, this is Berry we're talking about. There is no way she's going to let this stop her," Michaels said. Puck inwardly smirked. If Rachel could see Michaels now, worrying about her like a mother duck.

"Yeah, I suppose," Puck said.

"So why don't you go talk to her. Maybe you might trigger something that will bring her back," Michaels said.

"This isn't a movie guys," Puck tells them.

"It's worth a shot," Flynn said. Michaels and Flynn each grabbed an arm and lifted him to his feet. Puck gave everyone an apologetic smile as he passed patients, nurses and doctors who had watched his storm out. Every step he got closer to Rachel's ward, the more he wanted to turn around and run like the wind. When the three men arrived, Waters and Mason were talking animatedly to their co-worker. They all looked up at the new arrivals and immediately their gaze was drawn to the hospital clothed detective.

"Hey Rachel. I'm sorry I kind of bailed on you. I mean, I just wish you would remember me," Puck said after an awfully awkward pause.

"These two have been telling me all about you and how you saved my life. It would be nice to remember you too, I guess," Rachel said almost sadly.

"I'll try and help you then," Puck said and made his way towards her bed.

"And we'll be getting coffee," Waters said and tapped Mason's arm gently. The four detectives left the room to leave their recovering friends alone.

**Rachel**

She looked at him with interest as he told her the adventures and the misadventures they had endured together. Rachel would laugh or snicker at parts and frown at others.

"I must say Noah Puckerman, if all of this is true, I pretty much owe my life to you a hundred times," Rachel said.

"You've saved my ass as well, from stray bullets to sneaky suspects with guns aimed at me," Puck said.

"I can barely remember them. Some bits I recognize like a victim's name or a suspects alibi but it's like there were pages torn out of a book," Rachel said.

"Yeah, I mean, imagine if three pages of Lord of the Rings were missing. You would be screwed!" Puck said.

"Yeah, or like Eragon, The Da Vinci Code or Harry Potter," Rachel added. Puck laughed and then became still.

"Weren't they the books you were unpacking when you first came to my house?" Puck said. She paused and then it looked like she had a set of Vietnam flashbacks.

"The couch unwrapped with scissors, not being able to cook like Jamie Oliver, dog eared pages in Sherlock Holmes," Rachel began spurting out rapidly. She looked at him and sighed a bit. "Noah…" She fell back onto the bed and brought both hands to her head. Next thing she knew, she was crying.

"Rach? Rachel Berry!" He said suddenly, thinking she was going into a panic attack.

"Noah! I remember it all. Everything, the shooting, the guns, that man!" Rachel cried.

"Oh thank god!" Puck said. He wrapped his arms around her sobbing form and began murmuring thanks to the lord over and over into her ear. The others conveniently walked back into the room with coffee cups in hand to see the two detectives in a heart-wrenching embrace.

"I remember," Rachel said over Puck's shoulder. Waters and Masons both set their coffee down and went in for the hug as well.

"Well I'm glad this one has blown over," Michaels said.

"Yeah, I'll go phone the chief, tell him that his favorite detective is going to be just fine," Flynn said.

"Favorite?"

"Suck it up Michaels," Rachel said, giving him a small wink. Michaels allowed this one to slide and winked back.

**1 month later**

It was like nothing had changed. Rachel returned to active duty two weeks after being released from hospital and after a heart-filled welcome back, everyone returned to their routine of catching criminals. Michaels reverted back to his asshole-ish ways, Flynn was the strict leader of their little troupe and Puck was Puck. Although their little ordeal would never be forgotten, the team dealt with it as a learning experience. Just when Rachel and the others thought it was all over, the Chief called them into his office.

"Is there something wrong sir?" Flynn asked.

"Puckerman, I believe you are familiar with the drug bust in Lima, Ohio?"

"Of course sir," Puck said, not liking where this was going.

"There has been some activity underground involving a new scheme being set up. I'm afraid that there being a lot more careful this time. It seems that the new leader of the group is using the drug network to distribute illegal substances to minors in the area. I want you and Berry to investigate," the Chief said.

"Pardon me sir?" The Chief looked at the young detective.

"I've spoken to a local school principal, Figgins if I remember correctly. He has accepted to allow the pair of you to go undercover in order to bust the scheme. You're both young enough to pull off high school kids and Detective Puckerman is familiar with both the area and the objective," the Chief said.

"You're sending us to high school?"

"Didn't I make myself clear?"

"Sorry, it's just, I never went to high school sir," Rachel said. The chief raised his eyebrows at this but said nothing more on the matter.

"I will have Grayson Masters do your profiling-"

"Not that prick," Puck whispered under his breath.

"-and then you will relocate to Lima during the week," the chief said, letting the insult slide. He allowed them to leave and Puck and Rachel were left staring at the floor outside the chief's office.

"What did you two do to piss him off?" Michaels snickered.

"Shut up," Rachel said.

In a matter of days, Rachel had moved into a house close to McKinley High School. Tech Agents disguised as movers set up an office in the house's basement. She became acquainted with Mrs. Puckerman and her daughter and trained herself to become Rachel Berry, high school student. Puck was also having a hard time pretending to be the bad ass Masters wanted him to be and promised himself that he would use some of his acquired Bad Ass Skills to teach the profiler a lesson. It was Sunday evening when Rachel and Puck agreed that they were ready to jump into the world of gossip, bitchiness and hormonal teenagers. They decided that it was appropriate for them to avoid each other (both due to their fake personality clashes and to protect their cover) as it would be fatal if the drug dealers figured it out. They could be putting innocent people's lives at risk and being fired would be the least of their problems. On Monday morning, the pair were standing side by side, looking at the double doors that lead into the school that would be their home.

"You ready, Berry?" Puck said, rubbing a calloused hand through his newly cut Mohawk which his partner has teased him relentlessly ever since he walked out of the hairdressers.

"Ready as I'll ever be, Noah," Rachel said. He gave her a small smile. His given name would be the thing that would never let him forget about the time he nearly lost his best friend. She grasped his hand and gave it a small squeeze before pushing the door open. She took a minimum of five steps into the corridor before being doused in a sticky, cold liquid that was burning her eyes. Puck stared at his humiliated partner and for the first time ever, ignored her pleading eyes by walking past her and disappearing around the corner.

"So this is why high school sucks," Rachel murmured to herself before making her way to the closest bathroom to clean off the first of many slushee showers.

* * *

**I realized that this was getting rather long and I just wanted to get a background story on the pair over and done with. I have a feeling a lot of you will be a bit upset with the ending and I assure you that all flames will be taken like...um...(insert witty comeback here). This means that I can finally get started on the Sequel which a lot of you were vouching for. I believe that there will be Santana and possibly the other glee characters. I'm not sure how you want it to play out and honestly, I'm not quite sure either. I'll just let my imagination run wild I suppose. **

**On a darker note, my laptop has fried itself again and I have to take it to the Laptop Doctor again. Don't worry, I will be getting a new one sooner or later. Thanks to all the support guys, I will try to fix my baby up okay! I might actually start working on it on my main computer :) **

**THKer**

**P.S. Thanks to Peter who did a quick job of beta'ing my stuff. You've been an absolute rockstar. **


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